


An Existence Beyond Your Own

by Candyfairey



Category: Doctor Who, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-28
Updated: 2015-02-26
Packaged: 2018-02-06 15:14:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1862508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Candyfairey/pseuds/Candyfairey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock and John Watson have found themselves transported to the past. There they meet the 11th Doctor and his companion Hermione Granger. While Sherlock develops feelings for the brilliant Hermione Granger, the four of them slowly discover Sherlock's secret, a secret he doesn't even know himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bored

**Author's Note:**

> This is my second fiction that I’ve started although I’m new to fanfiction, so please bear with me. To be honest at first I wasn’t sure that it was going to come together. I seem to have epiphanies for my fictions in the shower, of all places!, when I’m trying to figure something out. Anyway you don’t need me to tell how absolutely brilliant each of these shows/books/movies are. I apologize in advance because updates will be slow. Please review and if you like it so far, hang in there for updates.
> 
> Disclaimer for entire fic: I own nothing except for my OC.

“Sherlock,” John said, slowly trailing Sherlock as he walked around the museum.  
“Yes?” Sherlock replied, without looking at John in a slightly irritated tone.  
“What exactly are we doing here?”  
“I was bored. I thought that perhaps a trip to the museum would be interesting,” Sherlock said, stopping momentarily and eyeing a painting on the wall as if it held a secret he was trying to work out.  
“Um alright. Well I’m going to go get some coffee. Would you like some?” he said before turning to go.  
“That’s new,” Sherlock said, ignoring John.  
“What?”  
“That old, blue police box. It wasn’t here the last time I was here.”  
“I didn’t notice.”  
“Of course you didn’t,” Sherlock replied in a condescending tone. He walked towards the mysterious blue box that was tucked in a corner.  
John sighed and looked down at his feet. “I’m going to get that coffee now,” John said although not making an attempt to move from his spot.  
“It’s rather curious,” said Sherlock, once again ignoring john. “I don’t see why an old police box would be in an art museum. I suppose because they aren’t used anymore.”  
“You’re just bored Sherlock,” John replied, looking up. “You haven’t had a case in two weeks.”  
Sherlock was in front of the police box now. He reached out and lightly traced a finger along the door. Not showing a hint of surprise when the door creaked open slightly. He pushed the door the rest of the way open and was curious as to why it wasn’t locked.  
“Sherlock!” John yelled.  
When Sherlock stepped into the police box, he stopped cold.  
“Sherlock? What’s wrong?” John asked, concerned. He stepped towards his friend after noticing his suddenly stiff form. “Sherlock? Speechless? If Lestrade could see this,” he joked, smiling.  
When Sherlock didn’t reply John stepped up behind him and lightly pushed him further into the box so he could see what had caused him to stop in his tracks.  
John froze. His jaw dropped. He couldn’t believe his eyes. He turned to look at his friend to see what kind of reaction something like this could elicit from him.  
Just then, the door to the police box closed by itself. The two men blinked and turned towards the door. They both tried to open it but it wouldn’t budge.  
A weird, whirring sound came from behind and they turned back around. It was coming from a strange looking control panel in the middle of the room.  
The police box started to move causing the men to stumble. Sherlock steadied himself and moved towards the control panel. He didn’t recognize any of the strange buttons and levers on the machine. He grabbed onto a bar that was connected to what looked like a screen to keep himself upright.  
“Sherlock what’s happening!?” shouted John trying to keep steady while trying to have a look at the control panel for himself.  
When the box stilled and the strange whirring noise stopped they both stood still, looking at each other as if waiting for the other to move first. They went to the door, unsure of whether or not it would open. Sherlock apprehensively opened it, wide enough to allow John to see as well. They heard the noise of creaking and groaning wood. They looked around the dark room, which was only lit by a square shaft of light a few feet away.  
They both exited the police box. Sherlock circled the box twice, his brows knitted together in a rare case of perplexity. “Impossible,” he said.  
They headed towards the shaft of light. They heard someone shouting orders and the sound of water as they came to some wooden stairs. They walked up the stairs coming to a stop at the top and once again they stopped in their tracks.  
Sherlock’s mind whirred at the sight before him. They were on a ship. Not just any ship but a pirate ship sometime in the 1700s judging by the clothing of the crew and the style of the ship.  
They stepped all the way onto the deck catching the attention of a few nearby crewmen. “Stowaways!” came a cry from one. The men drew their swords and rushed toward Sherlock and John crying out to their fellow crewmen.  
Within a matter of seconds Sherlock and John were completely surrounded by them with more than a dozen sword tips in their faces. Some wore angry scowls on their faces; others wore sinister smiles, revealing their rotted, yellow and black teeth, some with hardly any teeth to show.


	2. Initially He Wanted to Be a Pirate

Sherlock was standing at the bow of the ship staring out at the water. His coat was being whipped around him by the wind. He was wearing a black, tri-corner hat which sat a bit lopsided on his head.  
“Where are we?” John asked coming up behind Sherlock and squinting into the bright sunlight.  
“I believe we’re somewhere along the Caribbean Spanish West Indies and that we are somewhere around the 1700s. Based on what some of those lads told me.” Sherlock said nodding to a group of three, rather dirty looking, men huddled together and talking. All wearing loose and dirty cream colored shirts, brown or black pants that came to their calves and different colored rags tied around their heads.  
“Did you get to talk to the captain?” John asked.  
“Yes I did. We are now a part of his crew,” he told John with a hint of a smile gracing his features.  
“Then why aren’t we doing anything like everyone else?” John said looking around at the crew.  
“I had a nice talk with the captain, rather nice as far as pirate captains go.”  
“Because you have a lot of experience with pirate captains,” John mumbled.  
“I learned everything I needed to know about them in grade school,” Sherlock said turning to face John. “We’re on course towards a Spanish ship full of cargo. We’re going to raid it.”  
“What? As in you and I have to participate in a raid? With pirates?” John asked incredulously.  
“Yes. We’re to get swords before we get there.”  
“I don’t know how to use a sword!” John yelled, clearly frustrated at the situation they were in.  
“You’re a war veteran. I’m sure it won’t be that hard to pick up the skills. Or perhaps you could ask for a pistol. As I recall you’re an excellent shot.”  
“I…We are not participating in a raid! We could be killed! We need to figure out how to get back home! You just had to go into that box! I have a date!” John yelled furiously.  
“Well then you’ll have something very exciting to tell her when we get back won’t you,” Sherlock said before turning and walking away.  
John yelled. “Do you really not care about getting back home or how we ended up here for that matter!?”  
Sherlock stopped to look back at John over his shoulder. “As for the latter I very much care about how we ended up here. But as for the former, like you said, I was bored,” he turned back around and continued walking, going to see what more he could find out.  
\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
An hour later both Sherlock and John were practicing on deck with their newly issued swords.  
Sherlock, rather enthusiastically, kept lunging with his sword towards John. When John swung at Sherlock he agilely blocked John’s sword and moved his feet along with John’s, being sure to keep the same distance between them. His moves looked like they came right out of a movie. Unbeknownst to John, Sherlock was drawing on his knowledge from countless books he had spent reading when he was young as well as a pirate movie that had been a favorite of his when he was a child.  
“Ship ahead!” came a cry from the crow’s nest.  
The captain immediately came from his quarters. He burst from a door at the bow of the ship, underneath the top deck where the steering wheel was located. He was dressed in a red coat with brass buttons and a large black tri-corner hat that was much grander than Sherlock’s. It had a giant red feather sticking from it. His black boots came just below his knees and a sword was strapped to his right side and Sherlock saw where two pistols were concealed under his coat on each hip. “Hard to starboard!” he yelled in a gruff voice.  
Sherlock grinned at John. “Finally!” he yelled. John could not believe how excited Sherlock was about raiding a ship. It wasn’t like this was a murder case; then again he remembered Mycroft had told him that Sherlock once wanted to be a pirate.  
The crew swarmed to the starboard side once they neared the ship. One group of the crew put a plank out that reached from their ship to the Spanish one, which Sherlock noticed was called the Lady of the Sea in Spanish.  
John held his sword at the ready. Unwilling to use it but if someone from the other ship were to come aboard and attack him he wouldn’t hesitate. He looked up in awe as crewmen swung from ropes of the ship onto the Spanish ship, some with swords at the ready and others with knives in their mouths. “They really do that?” he asked no one in particular.  
He heard someone give out a cry and he turned to see Sherlock run from the other side of the ship, both hands gripping a thick rope along with his sword. He watched as his friend swung over the other ship, scarf and coat flying behind him. He dropped down onto the deck, immediately crossing swords with a Spaniard.  
John gaped in disbelief and shook his head. He knew he couldn’t just stand there. He had to at least have his friend’s back. John grabbed for the rope that Sherlock had just used as it swung back to the ship. He pulled it back to the same spot where Sherlock had been and held it tightly, curling his fingers around the hilt of the sword and the rope. After a brief moment of hesitation he let out a yell, although not as enthusiastic as Sherlock’s, and ran forward. The rope swung out over the other ship where he let go, landing a little unsteadily on his feet next to Sherlock. They moved so they were back to back.  
A Spaniard ran forward and John shot out his sword in defense, the Spaniard’s sword clashing with his with a loud clang of metal. He pushed the sword into John’s, a mustached smile on his face coming close to John’s. John twisted his sword with such force that the Spaniard’s sword flew out of his hand. John smiled at the Spaniard who put up his hands and backed away, momentarily defenseless.  
John flung his sword back up to defend himself again but froze. The man that came forward was wearing a bow tie and suspenders and had a mop of rather floppy hair. Nothing a Spaniard from this time would be wearing.   
“I really don’t want to use this,” the floppy haired man said, holding out his sword in defense just like John. “Wait a minute. You don’t look like a pirate,” the strange man said, straightening up in stance and lowering his sword a bit.  
“That’s because I’m not and neither do you,” John answered.  
The floppy haired man lowered his sword. “How did you get here?” he asked, his brow furrowing in what John saw was sincere curiosity.  
“Some blue police box brought us here. Why?” John said, lowering his sword as well.  
“You’ve got my Tardis? Us?” The raggedy man asked.  
“You’re what?” John asked, confused.  
“Doctor!” came a cry from the other side of Sherlock. Both John and Sherlock froze. It was a female voice.  
“You’re a woman!” Sherlock exclaimed.  
“Very well spotted!” the young woman replied. “Doctor!” she yelled again.  
“Yes! Yes! I heard you!” the floppy haired man said who John assumed to be the doctor the female voice was calling for. He passed John, coming up on Sherlock’s left side. John moved to Sherlock’s other side; curious as to why a woman was on a Spanish ship fighting against pirates. She pulled a tri-corner hat from her head and her curly, slightly unruly brown hair came tumbling down around her shoulders. Sherlock immediately noticed how intelligent her brown eyes were.  
“Where is your wand?” the Doctor asked.  
“I told you I left it on the Tardis when it kicked us out.”  
“Right. Well the man there,” he pointed to John with his sword, “Knows where the Tardis is.  
“Wait. Just wait a minute,” Sherlock said. “What is a Tardis and who are you? You are clearly not from this time,” he said, taking in this doctor’s bow tie, white button up shirt and suspenders and the straight leg khakis, red and grey striped shirt, and grey sneakers of the female he seemed to be with.  
“And neither are you. I am The Doctor and this is my companion Hermione Granger,” he answered cheerfully.  
“Doctor of what?” John asked.  
“Just The Doctor,” he said. “Now if you could take me to my Tardis I would very much like to get out of here. I can take you back to where you’ve come from as well.”  
“You haven’t told us what a Tardis is,” said John.  
“Oh right. Tardis stands for Time and Relative Dimension In Space. It’s my time and space machine. Oh don’t look at me like that,” he said at the gaping mouth of John and the disbelieving face of Sherlock. “It’s what got you here isn’t it?”  
Sherlock considered this. “We’ll take you to your Tardis if you give us some answers.”  
The Doctor looked momentarily displeased. “All right,” he said, turning on his heels towards the pirate ship. “Take me to my Tardis!” he yelled, holding his sword up in the air.  
They turned towards a plank of wood that was connecting the two ships and crossed it to the pirate ship, eager to escape the chaos around them.


	3. Fish and Chips

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so in this fic, for Hermione, it’s been six years after the battle at Hogwarts. For The Doctor it’s after the Ponds left. For Sherlock and John it’s between The Hounds of Baskerville and The Reichenbach Fall episode. So the timelines are all a bit wibbley-wobbly but this is partly a Doctor Who fic so you shouldn’t be surprised at that.

Sherlock and John sat inside the TARDIS, side by side on a seat. They were silently watching The Doctor and Hermione push and pull levers and press buttons on that strange control panel. Sherlock, try as he might, couldn’t figure out what those strange buttons and levers did. He wondered how Hermione knew which levers to pull, buttons to push and use the weird looking things that Sherlock couldn’t name.  
“Um, excuse me could you please tell me what we’re doing?” John asked.  
“Ah yes! Well we’re setting course for…where are you from?” asked The Doctor.  
“London, England 2012,” replied John.  
“Right well we’ll be there eventually,” The Doctor told them, pushing a lever upwards.  
Sherlock stood up and went to inspect the console up close. “How does this work?” he asked, directing the question at The Doctor.  
“Oh you know, wibbley wobbly, timey wimey stuff. You wouldn’t understand.”  
“Really? Why don’t you tell me and we’ll see how much I don’t understand.” Hermione looked at Sherlock curiously. He was clearly insulted at The Doctor’s words because his intelligence was being questioned. She smiled to herself, knowing how he felt. The Doctor had said the same thing to her when she first asked him and she was quick to show that she could indeed understand, as she was demonstrating by helping him now.  
“Oh maybe some other time. Now I’m sure you’re both hungry. Time travel tends to do that to you. How about some fish and chips from the seventies eh?” The Doctor said.  
“Oh that sounds delicious,” Sherlock said sarcastically, resuming his seat next to John with a scowl on his face.  
“I thought you were taking us home?” John asked, slightly confused.  
“I will, but you kept your part of the deal, what kind of Time Lord would you take me for if I didn’t keep mine?”  
“Did you just say Time Lord?” Sherlock asked.  
Before The Doctor could answer John cut in, “Does that make you…an alien?”  
The Doctor pointed at John “Ah see! He gets it!” he said, looking at Sherlock.  
Sherlock, with an even bigger scowl on his face, couldn’t believe this buffoon believed that he couldn’t understand any of his ‘timey-wimey’ stuff. Of course the man hardly knew him but really. Sherlock could tell he was intelligent.  
A few minutes later they were all seated on a park bench, each with fish and chips. Just as The Doctor said, they were in seventies London, which Sherlock had seen immediately by the dress of people on the street.  
“So,” John started, with a mouth full of chips, why does your spaceship look like an old police box?”  
“Well there’s what you call the chameleon circuit. It’s used to disguise the TARDIS to blend in in whatever time and place it lands. But it’s stuck, so hence the police box. And it’s not really a spaceship. It doesn’t really fly through space. It fades out from one time and space into another.”  
“Like teleportation?”  
“Yes, you could say that.”  
“And how does that work exactly?”  
“Well like I said, timey wimey-stuff. I push or pull certain levers, hit buttons and all that and it takes me where I want it to.”  
“Not all the time,” Hermione cut in.  
“Very true, but we always have fun don’t we?” he said with a big smile, nudging her in the side with his elbow.  
“And you’re an alien? A Time Lord?”  
“Yes.”  
“Are you an alien too?” John asked Hermione.  
She let out a laugh. “No, I’m human. But I am a witch.”  
“The Doctor asked about a wand earlier,” Sherlock stated.  
“Yes. It’s how I cast spells, although I’m quite good at some wand-less magic as well.” She pulled her wand from her pocket to show them. “Would you like to see something?”  
“Seeing as I don’t believe you, yes,” Sherlock said.  
Hermione stood, placing her uneaten portion of fish and chips on the bench.  
There was a squirrel nearby, edging towards a trash can, looking for some food. She stepped slowly up to it so as not to startle it. She pointed her wand at it and the squirrel morphed into a water goblet.  
The Doctor had a look of delight on his face while John stared openmouthed and Sherlock had a rare stare of disbelief. Sherlock rose from the bench and picked up the water goblet, thoroughly inspecting it.  
“Change it back,” he told her, placing it back on the ground.  
Hermione did so, and the squirrel quickly scurried away, no longer interested in finding food.  
They both sat back down on the bench, Sherlock going into deep thought.  
“And where are you from?” John asked Hermione.  
“London,” Hermione replied.  
“And you Doctor?”  
“I’m from the planet Gallifrey. That’s where my people lived. But there was a war and it’s gone now,” he said, with a hint of sadness in his voice that none of them missed.  
“Gallifrey isn’t a planet,” Sherlock cut in.  
“Coming from someone who doesn’t know that the Earth revolves around the sun,” John said.  
Hermione and The Doctor both stared at Sherlock.  
“It’s not important,” Sherlock stated.  
“He doesn’t keep anything that he doesn’t think is important. And he has this… mind palace thing,” John explained, trailing off.  
“Wait,” Hermione started, “Your name is Sherlock and your name is John,” she said, motioning to each of them as she said their names. “What are your last names?”  
“Holmes,” replied Sherlock.  
“Watson,” replied John.  
This time Hermione and The Doctor stared at both Sherlock and John.  
“What a coincidence!” The Doctor let out.  
“Coincidence?” Sherlock asked.  
“You two are friends, at least I assume you are, and you both have the same names as Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s book characters,” Hermione explained, before eating the last of her chips.  
“Sir Arthur Conan Doyle? Book characters?” John asked, thoroughly confused.  
“You have the names of one of the most famous detectives in literature and his best friend and you don’t know about it?” Hermione asked incredulously.  
“This character, Sherlock, is a detective?” asked Sherlock, his curiosity peaked.  
“Yes, and his friend is a physician that helps him with his cases, his only friend actually,” Hermione told them.  
“Does this Sherlock happen to have a brother?” John asked, his curiosity peaked as well.  
“Yes. Mycroft Holmes,” Hermione answered.  
Sherlock stood up and threw his trash away before turning to face them. “This is a joke right? You’re some time traveling alien from a non-existent planet, you’re a witch, and John and I are characters in a book? Really John, you could have done better than this.”  
“Um, Sherlock, I haven’t done anything,” John said.  
“Doctor, I think we should get back to the TARDIS, Sherlock needs some rest. I think this is all a bit much,” Hermione whispered.  
“I’m perfectly fine!” Sherlock yelled. “How did you do this John? Are these actors? Where did you get the money for this?”  
“Sherlock I haven’t done anything.”  
Sherlock looked intently at John. He could tell he wasn’t lying.  
Sherlock’s mind whirred with a million thoughts, each one trying to figure out what was going on. It was like the case with the hounds all over again.  
What he knew to be logical, to be real, to be possible, was being challenged. To Sherlock anything that wasn’t logical was wrong. Everything had a logical explanation, but a man that claimed to be a Time Lord from an unheard of planet? A box that was bigger on the inside and that could travel through time and space? How could John have set up the pirate ship? How did the police box get from the museum to the ship, to this place that looked very much like four decades ago? What about the book characters? Sherlock had never heard of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Why was the girl being a witch even important to this whole scheme? How did she change that squirrel into a goblet before his eyes?  
The others watched as Sherlock struggled to find an explanation.  
He turned away from them, his eyes closed with his pointer and middle fingers at his temple, trying to come up with an explanation.  
Sherlock felt a hand at his back and turned to see Hermione looking up at him with concern in her eyes and her brows furrowed in worry.  
“Let’s go back to the TARDIS alright?”  
Sherlock, surprising himself, nodded and allowed Hermione to wrap her arm around his as she led the way back to the TARDIS.  
Once they were back inside the TARDIS, Hermione led Sherlock down a hallway and into a bedroom.  
“You can stay here. John will be in the next room.”  
She reached to help him take off his scarf and he gently caught her wrists.  
“Why are you helping me?” he asked, the first thing he had said since his outburst in the park.  
“Because you’re clearly having a difficult time with this. I’ve always been a highly logical person and I can tell that you are too. I suppose because I’m a witch; it was easier for me to believe The Doctor.”  
Sherlock let go of her wrists and she proceeded to take off his scarf and then helped him remove his jacket as he still seemed be in a fit of disbelief.  
“You barely even know me,” he whispered.  
“I can tell you’re a bit like me though. I’ll get you a pair of The Doctor’s pajamas. I can adjust them to fit you,” she said, turning to leave.  
“Wait. How did you do that earlier? Change the squirrel into a goblet and back?”  
“I told you, with magic. I can’t explain how it works really. Except that if you tried to use my wand, you wouldn’t be able to do anything. The magic comes from within me.”  
At that she left the room with a smile while Sherlock crossed out the idea in his mind to try and use her wand, although that wouldn’t stop him from getting a good look at it.  
A few minutes later Hermione returned with two pairs of blue and white striped pajamas.  
“Here you are. I’ll be back to adjust them for you,” she said before leaving the room to go give John his pair.  
Later that night, while everyone was in bed, Sherlock lay wide awake. He wished he had some nicotine patches with him. He could really use them after the day’s events.  
When he tried to sleep, the day’s events kept flashing in his mind. He couldn’t decide if he accepted what was going on or not. He was still trying to come up with logical explanations for everything but they all came up short. Hermione had been very kind and concerned about him, although she barely knew him. She reminded him of John. She seemed like she wanted to be a friend of his already, but unlike John she hadn’t seen how Sherlock could be yet. He could tell she was a loyal person and he wondered why she had taken up with The Doctor.  
At 2:00 AM Sherlock finally drifted off to sleep, where his mind was free to wander.


	4. Patronus

When Sherlock woke the next morning he didn’t react like most people would. It didn’t take him a few seconds to figure out where he was. He didn’t have to look around the room groggily, letting his surroundings slowly come into focus with his brow furrowed as the events of the previous day came to him. He knew exactly where he was the second his eyes opened.  
He was in and out of various dreams all night. First he was back on the pirate ship with John except this time Sherlock was the captain. He stood at the bow of the ship wearing a magnificent coat with brass buttons, knee high boots and a good sized tri-corner hat with a voluminous feather, the same blue color as his scarf, jutting out. He called for John but there was no answer. He looked around, not seeing anyone, just an overcast sky. When he looked back out towards the sea he lost his footing and suddenly he was falling. Just when he was about to hit the water face first he woke with a start. He mumbled something about John not being there, rolled over and went back to sleep.  
Soon he was looking up at Hermione. She was standing across from him with her wand pointed straight at him. There was a flash of light and Sherlock let out a squeak. “I don’t squeak,” he thought to himself. When he looked up Hermione was towering over him. He looked down at his hands and was shocked to see that they had been replaced with little brown paws. Sherlock scrambled frantically around the room until he came to a mirror. He let out another, shocked, squeak. Hermione had turned him into an otter! He turned around and looked up at her and tried to tell her to change him back but all that came out were more of those little squeaks. Hermione giggled and bent down, scooping him up. She held him in her arms like he was a baby and to Sherlock’s surprise he snuggled up to her, taking in her warmth. He listened intently as he heard another squeak, different from his as if it came from a smaller creature. She bent down again and Sherlock latched onto her, fearing she was going to put him down. Instead she scooped up a hedgehog that Sherlock realized had been the source of the other squeaking noise. Sherlock knew immediately who the hedgehog was because it was wearing a black and white striped shirt. Hedgehog John squeaked happily in Hermione’s arms and at seeing Sherlock. When she placed a kiss on the top of Sherlock’s head he woke once again. This time he sat up, frantically inspecting his hands in the dark. “Ridiculous,” he muttered before lying back down and going to sleep once more.  
Next he was sitting across from The Doctor. Both of them were staring intently at a game of chess, both thinking of every next possible move and the consequences of them as well as anticipating all of the moves that the other could make leading up to checkmate. Sherlock looked away from the board and noticed a clock behind The Doctor. Its hands weren’t going at the normal pace; they were spinning around as if time were going by very fast. Sherlock looked back at The Doctor and he backed away in shock. The Doctor now looked like Moriarty, eerily smiling at him. Moriarty opened his mouth as Sherlock watched in shock. Instead of Moriarty’s voice, Sherlock heard a child’s voice was sweetly singing:  
Tick tock goes the clock  
Till Sherlock saves them all  
Tick tock goes the clock  
Till Sherlock gains it all  
After the last word Moriarty disappeared, leaving only The Doctor’s clothes on a pile of dust.  
Sherlock woke once again. He squinted, looking around the room. He had no idea what time of day it was. He flipped the covers off and went to the door, squinting again at the light in the hallway.  
He heard laughter and headed towards the sound. Down the hall he came to a door where the laughter was coming from and pushed it open.  
“Ah, afternoon Sherlock. We were just about to eat lunch,” John said, smiling.  
“John wouldn’t let me wake you,” Hermione told him as he took a seat across from John.  
John got up and poured Sherlock a cup of coffee, adding only two sugars. He passed it to Sherlock and sat back down. “I figured you needed your sleep. Have you, um, sorted everything?”  
“If by sorted you mean come to terms with whatever it is that’s going on, no,” Sherlock replied before taking a sip of his coffee and making that face he always makes when he drinks something, like it was pure lemon juice. Sherlock turned to Hermione. He could tell by her unruly hair and lack of makeup that she wasn’t the type of girl concerned with vanity and her grey pants and burgundy tee suggested she wasn’t very much into following trends either. She dressed for comfort. Her teeth were perfect, straight, white, not even a spot of plaque or dental work to be seen when she smiled. “What?” she asked him, noticing his stare.  
“You’re parents are dentists.” Sherlock stated, not asked.  
Hermione was taken aback. “How could you possibly have deduced that?”  
“You don’t have a certain proclivity for otters do you? Or hedgehogs?” Sherlock asked her, completely serious and ignoring her question.  
“My Patronus is an otter.”  
“Patronus?” All three men asked at once.  
“A Patronus is a particularly powerful defensive spell. We, meaning wizards and witches, use it against a magical being called a Dementor. Dementor’s were used to guard Azkaban, a prison where all of the wizards who committed terrible crimes are kept. They feed off of happiness. They make you feel cold, in despair, like you’ll never be happy again. They can also perform a kiss in which they suck out your soul. In the war Voldemort had the Dementors on his side. You have to really focus on a happy memory in order to produce your Patronus and it isn’t easy to get the hang of but once you do, it definitely comes in handy.”  
“A patronus is used against a Dementor because the happy memory used to help conjure the spell counteracts it.” Sherlock stated.  
“Yes, you can say that.”  
“You were in a war?” John asked with a look of concern on his face.  
“Yes a powerful wizard, Voldemort, sought to take over the wizarding world and rid it of all witches and wizards who weren’t pureblood.”  
“Pureblood?” John asked.  
“Pureblood means that someone has a pure magical heritage. That there aren’t any muggles in their family or ancestry.”  
“And are you pureblood?” John asked. “Wait what’s a muggle?”  
“No,” Sherlock stated before Hermione could answer.  
“And how do you know that?” John asked Sherlock, knowing he was probably right but still wondering how.  
Sherlock looked at Hermione. “Your arm,” he said nodding towards it.  
The Doctor didn’t need to look. Hermione had already told him her story and it angered him to think of the prejudice that Hermione grew up in and had to fight against. She put herself in danger to help her best friend and countless others as well as helping to bring an end to the war. He was very proud of his companion for that and her intelligence and experience had helped a great deal in many of their adventures.  
John however looked as Hermione held her arm out to show him.  
“Mudblood?” he asked.  
“Mudblood is a derogatory term for someone in the wizarding community with non-magical blood and a muggle is someone who doesn’t have any magical abilities. Like you,” Hermione said in answer to John’s question.  
“This Voldemort wasn’t pureblood either,” Sherlock stated causing The Doctor and Hermione to look at him, neither of them being used to his deductions, despite the fact that he shared the same name as the famous detective from Hermione’s favorite stories.  
Sherlock continued. “Why else would someone hate others so much to want to get rid of them unless he was like them?”  
Hermione nodded, her eyes bright at the deductions Sherlock was making. “Voldemort was half-blood.”  
“How did you get involved in all of that in the first place?” John asked.  
“My best friend, Harry Potter, was singled out by Voldemort when he was a baby due to a prophecy. Because of that he was the only one who could defeat Voldemort. And he did but it wasn’t without loss.”  
John nodded, knowing exactly how she felt. His respect for Hermione increased immensely.  
Sherlock let out a laugh and everyone turned to look at him. “Quite a few years ago there were a lot of deaths, but no one was ever certain why. It was this Voldemort.”  
“You tried to figure them out?” John asked.  
“Of course but there was always something missing, something that just wasn’t clicking.”  
“I still can’t believe I’m sitting across from Sherlock Holmes and John Watson,” Hermione said.  
“We are not characters from a book I assure you. As far as I can tell you are indeed a witch and from what I’ve seen, despite what I previously thought to be the truth, you are very real so why must John and I not be,” Sherlock said.  
Sherlock still wasn’t one hundred percent sure if magic was real but he wouldn’t stand for himself or John to be seen as characters in a book. Ridiculous. If they were, well, they most certainly wouldn’t be here now and Sherlock would surely know about it. Despite that though, Sherlock wanted to know more about why Hermione and The Doctor were comparing them to book characters.


	5. Hogwarts: A History

After lunch the Doctor took them on a tour of the TARDIS.  
“Hermione?” The Doctor paused and stuck his head in the door way of the kitchen, some of his hair flopping down over his eyes.  
“You guys go ahead,” she said with a smile as she rinsed the coffee pot in the sink.  
Since Hermione had already been given the tour of the TARDIS she decided to head to her room.  
Once in her room she grabbed her beaded bag from the nightstand and sat down on the bed. She reached her arm into the bag up to her elbow and after a few minutes of searching she pulled out the first of two volumes of The Complete Adventures of Sherlock Holmes. She settled down against the pillows after kicking off her trainers.  
Two hours later she was pulled out of “The Musgrave Ritual” from The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes by a knock on her door.  
“Come in,” she said as she committed the page number that she was on to memory.  
The door opened and she quickly hid the book behind her pillow.  
Sherlock entered rather cautiously and immediately took in her room. He noticed the lavender bedspread, white sheets, and a pair of almost worn to their last mile bunny slippers. Her wand, which was carved with what looked like vines all along it, rested on a stack of books. Judging by their titles he knew they had to do with magic.  
As he stepped closer to her bed he noticed a picture of a young Hermione, about 12 years old. She was in the middle of two boys her age, her arms slung around the boys shoulders with a beaming, toothy smile plastered on her young face. Her hair was much more tame now then it was in the picture. To her left in the image was a freckle-faced ginger who was slightly taller than the others and to her left a dark, messy haired boy with round glasses, green eyes and a peculiar lightning scar on his forehead. They were standing in front of what looked like a garden.  
Hermione laughed as she saw Sherlock’s eyes widen in shock at the moving picture. He quickly composed himself.  
“Magic,” he stated, looking at her.  
She nodded. “The one on the right is Harry Potter and the one on the left is Ron Weasley. I told you about them.”  
Sherlock nodded.  
Next to the picture of The Golden Trio he noticed a picture of a mangy looking orange cat that was a breed he wasn’t quite sure of. It was curled in Hermione’s arms and he watched as she placed a kiss on the cat’s head.  
“That’s Crookshanks. He’s around here somewhere.”  
Sherlock turned his attention to the stack of books.  
“Would you mind if I borrowed one of these?”  
“Not at all. Take your pick.”  
He chose the one on top, picking up her wand and inspecting it before placing it on the nightstand.  
“Hogwarts: A History? The school you attended?” he said, looking at her.  
“Excellent choice and yes. It’s also one of my favorite books.”  
“Yes I can tell by the binding.”  
Hermione smiled. “If you have any questions don’t hesitate to ask.”  
~O.o~  
Sherlock lay on his bed, his shoes off. He was completely absorbed in Hogwarts: A History. He was particularly interested in the history of the ghosts. His mind whirred, trying to think of a logical explanation for every single thing he read and, frustratingly so, not coming up with anything. Normally he would have become fed up with it and would have flung the book onto the floor. But he yearned for more knowledge of this wizarding world. Even when he was a child he didn’t read stories about magic or dragons. He much preferred ones about pirates because he knew they had actually existed. He had always thought he knew everything, or at least everything he considered important.  
He smiled at all of the notes Hermione had scribbled on the pages and at the same time noticing how her handwriting had evolved a little over time.  
~O.o~  
John was headed to Sherlock’s room when he stopped in the hallway, hearing chatter. He realized was by Hermione’s door and he peered through the crack in the slightly open door.  
Hermione lay on her bed on her stomach while Sherlock sat in a lavender plush chair, his knees pulled up to his chest, his shoes off and feet in the chair.  
John watched as they both talked animatedly. John’s brows rose when he realized Sherlock was the one asking all of the questions. Hermione readily answered him, her face showing her eagerness to answer any and all questions he asked her.  
John noted how at ease they looked, completely lost in their conversation.  
He smiled to himself as he walked away. He may not be Sherlock Holmes but he definitely saw something between his best friend and the young woman, something he’d never seen before.  
“Sherlock and a witch,” he said to himself, chuckling.


	6. Run

Hermione had been answering Sherlock’s constant barrage of questions for over an hour now but she didn’t mind one bit.  
In fact as she was spread out on her bed, lying on her stomach, she was amused by his expressions. How when she explained Horcruxes and how they worked; at first he looked mortified that you could actually split your soul and then put a piece of it in an object. But quickly his expression changed to one of complete curiosity.  
She loved watching his face and a few times she actually caught an awed look come across it. It reminded her of similar looks she received from Harry or Ron during their time at Hogwarts, making her smile.  
Sherlock admired her for going back to school after the war and was surprised when she told him she chose to become an Auror, after she explained what that was to him, of course.  
He’d prematurely thought she would have done something else, something more studious but from the information he was garnering from her, he realized his fault.  
Yes, Hermione was fiercely intelligent but she had also spent the majority of her life fighting against Voldemort and his followers alongside her friends and she admitted it was something she enjoyed, although the violence tended to put a sour taste in her mouth. It was something she was great at, solving puzzles but at the same time being a part of the action.  
She explained to him that in the first year after she became an Auror she and Harry caught several of Voldemort’s Death Eaters that were in hiding yet still trying to wreak what little havoc they could on the Wizarding community and on muggles as well.  
“There is one thing I am very curious about,” Sherlock said, involuntarily leaning towards her, his brilliant eyes shining as he looked at her.  
“What’s that?”  
“How did you end up here? With the Doctor?”  
Hermione smiled at the memory before launching into her story.  
~O.o~  
Hermione and Harry happened to be at the Ministry of Magic for an Auror meeting the day the Doctor decided to make an appearance there.  
Just as the meeting was adjourning the room quickly became silent at the sound of screams coming from the hallway.  
Harry and Hermione shared a brief glance before jumping to their feet and being the first to the door, wands raised.  
When Harry flung the door open he stopped in his tracks.  
The Aurors and surrounding wizards were truly stumped as to what they were seeing.  
Robots? Yes they were definitely some kind of robots and they all looked exactly the same.  
The Aurors rushed out into the hallway, wands out and alert as Kingsley Shacklebolt shouted orders.  
One of the robot turned around and looked to the Aurors emerging into the hallway.  
“Aurors. You are the ones who will be most helpful. You will come with us,” a robot at the front spoke in a monotone, robotic voice.  
“Not so fast,” said a surprisingly calm and self-assured voice.  
Hermione turned to see a man in trousers that were just a few inches too short at the hems, a button up shirt, suspenders, and a bow tie.  
The self-assured man stepped in front of the Aurors.  
“Doctor. This is no business of yours.”  
“Oh you’ve come to kidnap people, very magical people, from earth and you thought I would allow that?”  
“Magical indeed. Which is precisely why we need them.”  
“For what?”  
“This is no business of yours Doctor.”  
“Well you’re just lucky I happened to be in the area! Now I’ve made it my business. You will leave earth, now, and erase any ideas of taking these remarkable,” the Doctor turned to look at the witches and wizards standing behind him and beamed at them. His eyes met Hermione’s before turning back to the Cybermen, “truly remarkable people anywhere.”  
‘We will see about that.”  
The air filled with shrieks as the Cybermen started attacking the witches and wizards.  
Just as Hermione ducked out of the way of a Cyberman the Doctor turned around and grabbed her hand in his.  
“Run!” he yelled and pulled her along with him.  
“What’s your name?” he asked after he had pulled her into a room a few doors down from the commotion.  
“Hermione Granger,” she answered, her face a bit flushed from the excitement.  
The Doctor’s face lit up.   
“THE Hermione Granger!? Best friend of Harry Potter!? The boy who lived? A part of The Golden Trio!?”  
“Yes,” she answered. She was used to fellow wizards and witches having similar reactions.  
He stuck out his hand and she took it, shaking it, thinking that this was rather unimportant with what was going on at the moment.  
“It is an absolute honor Miss Granger!” He beamed, wrapping her hand in both of his.  
He released her hand and pointed a finger at her. “You are…you are brilliant!”  
“Um thank you? Don’t you think we should get back out there?” Hermione said, surprised that a complete stranger now held her in a hug.  
“Yes yes of course!” He released her from his arms. “We’ve got Cybermen to deal with!”  
“Cybermen? What exactly are these Cybermen? What do they want?”  
“No time Miss Granger. Now I’m sure you’ve noticed how quiet it’s gotten out there?”  
As a matter of fact she had.  
“Now they’re going to take everyone in there hostage. They will especially want you, and the Aurors.”  
“What for?”  
“We’re going to figure that out in a bit because I’m not entirely sure. Perhaps something to do with you being a part of the Golden Trio but whatever it is it can’t be good.”  
“Wait those things out there? Are they aliens?”  
“Yes! You are as bright as they say!”  
“Aliens know about witches and wizards? About magic?”  
“None that I’ve met. Which also poses another interesting question, how did they find out about you all?”  
Neither of them had time to ponder the answer to that as he grabbed her hand and pulled her along with him once again, out the door and back to where the Cybermen were.  
~O.o~  
“Doctor. Always protecting your precious Earth.”  
“You say that like it’s surprising,” the Doctor said, lifting his hands up in a shrug and the corners of his mouth turning down.  
Hermione looked wary as the Doctor sat down on a bench. How could he be so calm, at least on the outside, during all of this? And why had he pulled her aside earlier, for no real reason it seemed.  
“What do you want with these witches and wizards?”  
“They are very powerful. They have abilities that are unheard of on any other planet. We will use that to our advantage.”  
“And what makes you think they’ll let you?”  
“Because if they refuse, they will die.”  
“You will not harm another person!” Hermione shouted, stepping forward.  
“And what are you going to do about it.”  
Hermione whipped out her wand and stunned the Cyberman that seemed to be the leader.  
His fellows watched as he crashed to the floor with a loud, heavy thud.  
The Doctor hopped to his feet, stunned. He had no idea that magic could work on the Cybermen.  
“You will stand down,” said a Cyberman who was dragging a man with a mop of messy dark hair behind him.  
Hermione froze when she realized who the man was.  
“Harry,” she said, lowering her wand, her face showing her fear for her best friend.  
As the Doctor looked to her, despite the fear she obviously felt for her friend, she showed no sign of surrender and instead he saw a fierce determination. She would do anything for Harry or her fellow wizards. These Cybermen were going to regret the second they laid hands on Harry Potter.


	7. Teamwork

“Don’t even think about doing that again.” The Cybermen holding Harry demanded.  
“What have you done to him?” She asked.  
“He is merely unconscious.”  
Hermione breathed a sigh of relief but she was still angry.  
“We understand that this is your leader. The man who led you to victory over your enemies.”  
“He isn’t anyone’s leader and he certainly won’t help you or your kind! He had no control over his path! He was chosen by the very man that he defeated! Do you wish to have the same fate?”  
“We will do what we must.”  
Hermione was about to say something else when the Ministry disappeared and every witch, wizard and Cyberman that had been in the vicinity were now in what looked like a metal room.  
Hermione quickly realized by their surroundings that they must be in the Cybermen’s spaceship.  
The Doctor grabbed Hermione’s hand. “Come with me,” he whispered, not wanting for an answer to pull her along.  
The Doctor and Hermione ran along a dark corridor and ducked behind a barrier just in time.  
They watched as the Cybermen herded the captured witches and wizards along.  
Hermione bit the inside of her cheek when she saw Harry and that he was still unconscious. She knew it would be detrimental to jump out and try anything now. This Doctor knew about this race of aliens and if she wanted Harry and her fellow witches and wizards to come out of this safe she would have to trust him.  
After the Doctor was sure all of the Cybermen had passed he spoke. “Now Hermione there are too many Cybermen to even think about taking on.”  
Hermione nodded. “Of course, so what’s the plan? You must have a plan. Clearly you’re no stranger to these creatures.”  
“And you are correct. As a matter of fact, being on their ship actually gives us an advantage.”  
“How so?”  
“I can possibly shut them down.”  
“Shut them down?”  
“Yes you see Cybermen are all linked together and if I’m right, which I usually am, there should be a way to shut them all down on this very ship.”  
“Right but what if that doesn’t work or if they wake up before we can make our escape? Can’t they just come back and attack the Ministry again?”  
“Ah clever Hermione considering all possibilities,” he said, waving a finger at her. “If there’s a way to shut them down…”  
Hermione interrupted. “Then there’s a big chance there’s a way to erase their memories or reprogram so they forget about the witches and wizards!”  
“Exactly!” the Doctor beamed. “Now we just need to find out where.”  
Hermione had a thoughtful look on her face for a moment. “It’ll be somewhere heavily guarded, with limited access even to the Cybermen,” she speculated.  
“Yes! Let’s get started.”  
They had been sneaking around the ship for an hour now.  
Hermione used a cloaking spell so they could search the ship. They did have to duck away a few times when there wasn’t enough room for both them and the Cybermen.  
They just barely missed smacking into two Cybermen rounding a corner.  
Once the Cybermen were out of sight they continued around the corner and down the hallway.  
They spotted ten Cybermen standing lined against either side of the hallway at the end of the hall.  
“That’s it,” Hermione whispered.  
The Doctor nodded in agreement.  
“We can’t just open the door though, they’ll surely notice that,” Hermione said.  
Before the Doctor could say anything he felt Hermione’s hand wrap around his arm and pull them back the way they came.  
She ran until she spotted the two Cybermen they’d nearly bumped into earlier.  
Hermione crept up to them and she cast a spell that knocked them unconscious. Before they could hit the floor she cast a levitating charm and directed them into a room which thankfully was unlocked.  
She thought for a moment before making her and the Doctor visible again. She used a spell to change their appearance to look like the Cybermen and another cloaking spell to make the unconscious Cybermen invisible juts in case any others looked into the room.  
“You’re brilliant Miss Granger!” The Doctor exclaimed.  
“I’ll have to disguise our voices as well,” Hermione said.  
“Of course but first, I’m going in there alone,” The Doctor said.  
“What!? No, Doctor I can’t let…”  
“Hermione listen,” he said gently, placing his Cyberman hands on her shoulders. “You need to find Harry and the others. Once I’ve shut them down, change back to yourself. In your robes I hid something. Once you have everyone gathered, use it. It will bring my ship here. Get everyone in there and get them out of here, all right?”  
“How will you get out?”  
“My sonic.”  
“You’re what? Wait you slipped that thing in my pocket when you pulled me aside at the Ministry,” Hermione smirked, impressed.  
“Yes now go.”  
Hermione nodded, but she worried about if he didn’t get passed the guards and they were found out, then what?  
She changed their voices, each of them testing them out before leaving the room and going to their tasks.


	8. The Brilliant Miss Granger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to say that this fic out of all my others gives me the most writer’s block and I know it’s been forever! I seem to have a habit of starting a fic, writing several chapters, then slowing down but that doesn’t mean that I’ve given up on a fic. Thanks for sticking with me! Enjoy and please review!  
> Disclaimer: I own nothing.  
> Playlist:  
> A$AP Rocky feat. Gesaffelstein-In Distress  
> Benny Benassi-Satisfaction (while I was listening to this I thought ‘If the Cybermen sang this is probably what they would sound like, then I imagined the Cybermen singing karaoke on a stage and dancing to this song and had a very good giggle about it).

After cautiously walking through the corridors Hermione came upon two Cybermen guarding a door.  
“I have been sent to relieve you,” her Cyberman voice spoke to the others.  
“We do not recall these orders. This is our assigned post,” one of them replied.  
“The Doctor is trying to break in through the lowest level,” she lied. “I’ve been sent to relieve you two so you can go help apprehend him.”  
The two Cybermen quickly left their posts at the mention of the Doctor.  
Hermione waited until they were out of sight before she unlocked the door using alohamora and slipped inside.  
The witches and wizards, all disarmed, gasped at her entrance at seeing her Cyberman form.  
She changed back to herself, not heeding the Doctor’s words. She needed to show herself in order for them to trust her.  
Harry ran forward. “Hermione!”  
“Harry!” She exclaimed just as he wrapped his arms around her. “Are you alright?” She pulled back to inspect him.  
“I’m fine, are you okay?”  
“Yes. I’m fine. Now you must listen. I’m to bring something here that will help you all get out.”  
Before Harry could ask what she meant, she pulled the sonic screwdriver out of her pocket and hit a button on the side. Seconds after it began its noise the sound of the TARDIS was heard in the room. The witches and wizards watched in mild astonishment as an old blue police box materialized in the room.  
Hermione wasted no time using alohamora on the door and ushering the others inside. The door shut behind her as she was the last one in. She heard a siren coming from outside. Realizing the Doctor must have been caught; she opened the door and ran out just as the TARDIS was starting to disappear.  
“Hermione!” she heard Harry yell as the door shut behind her and she apparated from the room.  
Not bothering to use the Cyberman illusion again, she appeared just outside the room the Doctor was supposed to be in.  
“Doctor!” she yelled when she saw he was being held by two Cybermen.  
His hands were up in the air, showing he had no weapons.  
“Look see fellas? Nothing. Now if you’d be so kind to let the young lady go.”  
Before Hermione could attempt to help him she was grabbed from behind by two Cybermen, her wand slipping from her grasp and rolling in between her and the Doctor.  
“You are the Doctor. You do not need weapons to defeat your enemies. You must be…”  
The Doctor took this as a good time to interrupt. “Yes yes I know deleted, updated. Whatever you call it I really think I’d much rather sit it out.”  
“No Doctor you must be destroyed. You are much too dangerous. Your companion will be upgraded once we are through with you.”  
All the while Hermione was scoping out the room. The controls were located in a separate room behind a glass wall. She could just see through the iron grating underneath her feet that a set of stairs from the room led to what looked like another Cyberman. But this one was sitting on what looked like a metal throne and was connected to numerous tubes and cords.  
Hermione looked from him to the Doctor then back to the Cyberman a few times until the Doctor nodded in understanding.  
They couldn’t just shut the Cybermen down. They were all somehow linked to the one below their feet. They’d have to destroy him, or perhaps the less violent route and just rewrite his system so the Cybermen no longer wish to kidnap and convert witches and wizards. But first they needed to get away from the four Cybermen holding them hostage and then figure it out.  
Hermione saw the Doctor mouth the word sonic and she took a deep breath, concentrating on performing wand less magic.  
As the Doctor watched the two Cybermen that were holding her collapsed on to the ground and she whipped the Sonic from her pocket and tossed it to him.  
The Doctor beamed as his Sonic flew through the air towards him.  
The two Cybermen that were holding him collapsed to the ground as well and he caught his sonic.  
He and Hermione ran to each other.  
The Doctor pulled her in for a hug.  
“Oh you are brilliant Miss Granger!” He exclaimed, pulling her in and placing a quick kiss on the top of her head. “We have to get down there to that Cyberman and reprogram their settings. We have wizards and witches to save!”


End file.
